Dangerous hot things.

The class I was just rushing to was cut short -- at both ends. I began by spilling my whole cup of coffee all over my notes, which led to a couple minutes of delay blotting things up with paper towels instead of talking about what I wanted to talk about: an exploding hot water heater. (If you do Civil Procedure, you will, of course, recognize the case.)

Well, at least there was thematic unity: hot liquid mishaps.

Then halfway through the hour, the fire alarm went off, and it was not a drill -- the profs are told when there is a drill planned -- so it wasn't a matter of putting in the 15 minutes hanging out on the lawn. Maybe we'd better get a little further away from the building. It seems to be a bad luck day. There are the fire engines.

I pack it in and go to the parking garage.

So we won't get to the case about the exploding, burning Audi -- you know that one too, don't you? -- I think as I get in my Audi and pull, very carefully, out of my parking space. I'm hoping my law school is not burning or exploding, I think, as I sit here now, cocooned at home, waiting for the firemen. These are firemen who, on the side, do people's windows. They are coming to take down the screens and put up the storms windows to protect me from the cold I know is coming, even though today is a day of dangerous hot things.

UPDATE: Word is there was "a very small fire." Somebody overmicrowaved something. So, to revise the theme of the day, it's a day of fizzles.